


Like a real Winchester

by angelof221b



Category: Supernatural
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Sweet, after-mark!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-12
Updated: 2014-05-12
Packaged: 2018-01-24 11:59:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1604351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelof221b/pseuds/angelof221b
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The final fight is done, Metatron is dead and everyone is safe. But how did Cas stop Dean from getting overwhelmed by his mark? What is difference between his relationship with the angel and the one he has with his brother? <br/>And what is it that makes him feel like a 12 year old next to him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like a real Winchester

It was already dark outside,the only source of light coming from the light bulb right over his head. Dean looked outside the door and around. There he stood, leaning on his precious car, head tilted to the side, facing the stars. Dean could only see his silhouette but he would recognize him anywhere. Only Cas had the ability to stand this still. He hesitated for a second, took a deep breath and then slowly walked towards him, the two bottles in his left hand softly clanging into each other while he ran the fingers of his right hand through his hair. He was still pretty worn out and while the short shower made him feel at least on the outside like a human again, he was far from fine on the inside.   
If Cas heard him coming, he didn’t make a move to acknowledge him at first. Dean stopped next to him, his left hand extended, offering him one of the beers. “Here”, he said. At that, the other man turned around, his eyes going up and down Dean’s body fast, as if silently checking if he’s okay. His eyes then fixated on Dean’s and he took the bottle. “Thank you, Dean.” He looked like he wanted to say something else, too, but then he opened his beer, took a huge gulp and faced the stars again.   
He clearly waited for Dean to say something.   
“So… Sam’s fine now, or so he says. Whatever mojo you used on him before, it definitely did the trick. He’s just tired now and he basically shoved me out here because he said he needs some privacy. Though I think he probably just wants to have some premium nerd time, judging by the books he had lying in his bed. How… ehm… how are you?” He glanced at Cas with a worried look, full of guilt and regret. “Again, I am fine Dean. You do not need to feel guilty for your actions. It wasn’t you. It was the influence of the Mark that made you do all this and you did not hurt me. I am still a warrior, after all.” He turned to face Dean. “You did what you had to do, Dean. Metatron is dead because of you. You did the whole world a favour .” “A favour? I almost fucking killed you, Cas! And Sam, too. How can I not feel guilty? I thought I had it under control, but I didn’t. It’s my fault you all got hurt and it could have been much worse.” “You’re right, it could have been worse. Wars claim sacrifices and victims, or there would not be a victor. That’s the way it has to be. Tonight was a victory. A close one, I admit, but a victory nonetheless.” Dean looked at him incredulously.  
“Victory, my ass. What if I had killed you? How could you have been so sure anyway that I wouldn’t?” he asked, both curious and angry.   
Cas remained silent for a few seconds before admitting quietly “I didn’t.” That stopped Dean short. “Excuse me? You what?” he asked unbelieving. “I had no assurance it would work” he said simply, offering no further explanation. “So you risked your ass trying some theory you came up with while I tried to slam the fucking first blade into you?” He was furious now, Cas could see that. He had to make him understand. “Dean, once you laid a hand on this blade your powers more than exceeded mine at that point. My ‘juice’ as you might call it was fading with the second alongside the stolen grace and I understood that this made you by far stronger and superior. Talking to you was the only chance I had, Dean. It was the only chance for all of us. So I had to at least attempt to save us.”  
Cas eyes locked with Dean’s, willing him, almost begging him to understand. And Dean did understand, in a way. He knew the feeling of helplessness just too good and actually he should be the one apologizing to Cas, not vice versa, but it was all kind of hard to see when all he could think about was how he was so close, so willing to end Cas’ life. How he had lost control and all he had seen was something supernatural that needed to be killed, not the wonderful brave angel who seemed to be ready to do just anything to save him and his brother. A wave of renewed guilt and also gratitude washed over him, along with something that Dean couldn’t quite name. Something positive and and bright that made him feel uncomfortable, but somehow in a good way. Dean was familiar with this feeling, as he had started to get this more and more whenever Cas is close or whenever he was thinking about him too much. Not that he did that. God, he was drifting off. Judging by Cas worried look he had been quiet for too long. What were they talking about? Oh yeah, Mark of Cain, killing Metatron, almost killing Cas and Cas saving them. How did he do it anyway?  
“How did you do it anyway, Cas? What made you think I would listen to you? And what did you actually say? It’s kind of … a blurr for me.”   
Cas seemed to consider that. “What do you remember?” he asked, both curious and thoughtful. Dean thought about that. What did he remember? Not much, really. He recalled blood and sweat and shoving angels aside, killing them without even looking, his eyes searching for Metatron, who was due to massive research by Sam and Cas, unable to zap away because of one of the most powerful spells they had ever encountered. He remembered slamming the blade into Metatron’s chest and then the brightest, most illuminating light he had ever seen as Metatron died. He vaguely recalled himself kneeling over Metatron’s dead vessel as he kept cutting into his body, his hands unable to stop, his mind unable to think. Then suddenly there was Cas, holding him back with a hand on his shoulder and a face full of emotion, one more complex than the other. “It’s enough, Dean. You did it. You killed Metatron.” His voice sounded delighted but concerned as well. “Now let go of the blade” Cas said in a soft but assertive tone. After that, all Dean could remember was being outraged that some supernatural being, even if it was an angel, had the nerve to tell him what to do. After that, he couldn’t remember a damn thing.   
“I remember killing Metatron and you trying to get me to letting go of the blade. That’s about it. Cas… what did you do that made me come to my senses? Even Sam couldn’t do it. Why you?” He needed to know. Cas looked at him with a thoughtfully. “Roll up your sleeve” he said with an unreadable expression. Dean raised his eyebrow, but did as he was told. He probably just wanted to see if the mark was…wait. He yanked his sleeve almost up under the armpit. Then, just to be sure although he was positive it had been this hand, he rolled up the sleeve of his other hand too. Perplexed his eyes shot up to Cas’. “Where is it? Where is the mark?” Cas just looked satisfied, and somehow… if Dean didn’t know it better, he would say he looked flattered. “What is it, Cas? How can it be gone? Talk to me, man!” His fingers swept over the exact spot where his mark had been a few times. Could it be true? Could it be truly gone?   
Cas took a deep breath, a gesture he had copied from the humans long time ago and even if he didn’t exactly need the oxygen, it somehow made him feel calmer as well. “When you were trying to kill me, I knew I had only two options: die or find a solution. A solution I could execute without any tools, seeing as if I didn’t really have the time to perform any spell or similar technique. The only solution that came to my mind was talking. Humans spend their entire lives talking and listening and I decided to …‘give it a shot’, as you would say.” “You decided to give it a shot?! You risked your damn life because you concluded that some humans are good in listening so why wouldn’t I? Damn it, Cas.” He sighed in disbelief and shook his head. They fell in an uncomfortable silence for a while. Dean sighed.  
“So… what did you say that made my monster-brain stop and stare?” Dean asked bitterly. Cas’ eyes turned empathetic. “You are not a monster, Dean. Everything you did, you did for the right reasons. I feel … proud of you?” he said, his voice going up at the last few words like a question, as if he wasn’t sure that was the right pronunciation or if that was the emotion his body was making him feel. Nevertheless, it made Dean blush. He wanted to say something, even though he didn’t quite know what, but Cas obviously wasn’t finished. “I told you that you are stronger than the mark, because I have seen your soul and even though it was scarred and broken, it was the most beautiful soul I have ever seen. I told you that you withstood hell and purgatory and everything you encountered in between and you never did anything without the right reasons. So I asked you if you had a reason to kill me.” Dean listened, his mouth hanging slightly open and his eyes big, consuming every word Cas was saying. Even though he was talking about a moment between the two of them, it felt as if he was hearing a story for the first time. In a way, it was. Cas’ story. “You said that angels were supposed to be guardians and not killers and that I was exactly like all the other angels you’ve encountered.” Cas voice didn’t change at that, but Dean could see in the look of the other man that told Dean that he had hurt him. Another pang of guilt shot through his chest. “Then I asked you why you kept staying by my side then if you didn’t like me at all. You seemed surprised by that question but still ready to kill me and I told you that you could kill me right there right then because I wasn’t going to leave your side as much as you weren’t going to leave me in purgatory.” “God damn it, Cas. Ever heard of the phrase “don’t tickle a dragon?” Cas ignored him.”Anyway, that stopped you short. I told you that you once told me that you needed me. And that I need you as well. That I care for you … deeply. Then you dropped the blade.”  
Cas finished his monologue and probably for the first time ever, he didn’t seem able to look into Dean’s eyes. Instead he fixated his hands which were clinging onto the long-forgotten beer. Dean looked stunned. Whatever he had been imagining, this wasn’t it. Cas simply admitting to him how much he cared for him did the trick? The strange feeling inside him came back, just about 10 times stronger as usual. If he had to take a guess, he thought he knew exactly what this feeling meant, but he wasn’t sure he was ready for this. Hell, if he’d ever be ready for this. But if not now, under the stars right after Cas saved his life, again, then when would be the right time to find out?   
“Why do you think that worked? When nothing else did?” Dean asked tentatively, not so sure if he was ready to hear the answer. Cas looked up again, his skyblue eyes meeting Dean’s green ones. “I figured… love would conquer hate. That your love towards me might be stronger than the hate the mark was giving you.” He looked unsure of himself, as if not sure if Dean felt something like that even though it had just saved Cas’ life. Dean felt himself blush but did not break eyecontact. “Well I guess you figured right” he said in a low voice, a soft smile on his lips. Cas’ mouth mirrored Dean’s and for a while they just stood there, silently looking at each other and smiling. Then Dean shifted a little closer. Now or never, he thought. Slowly, he extended his hand a little and reached for Cas’. He seemed surprised, but let him take it nevertheless. Dean stroked the angel’s hand with his thumb and looked into the blue of Cas’ eyes, which were searching his for answers as to why he was doing this. Dean smiled and said:”Thank you, Cas. Not just for saving me but … for everything.” Damn his body for blushing like a 12 year old. “You’re more than welcome, Dean” Cas answered, his voice warm, but still a bit unsure. Dean’s smile turned lopsided and he took another small step towards Cas, so that their noses were almost touching. “But you know what that means, right? Now you’re officially involved. No turning back now, buddy. Sacrificing yourself for someone else? You’re a real Winchester now.” Cas smiled. “I think I’d like that.” Dean grinned approvingly. “But do you know what else this means?” he said, his voice a bit more serious now. “What?” Cas almost whispered the word. Dean took Cas’ other hand in his and came so close that their foreheads were touching. “You can’t ever leave again.” Deans voice was soft, pleading. He licked his lips and looked in Cas’ eyes one last time, silently asking for permission. Then he closed the small gap between their lips. The kiss was soft and sweet, exactly how a first kiss was supposed to be. Cas tasted like air and earth and light. Somehow innocent, despite everything he has done. Dean brought up his hand to cup Cas’ cheek and slowly stroke it with his thumb. Cas ended the kiss and took a small step back, just enough to look at Dean properly. His eyes, full of energy, love and adoration, locked with Dean’s. “I think I can live with that.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading this, I really hope you enjoyed it. If so, please let me know.   
> This is my first Destiel fanfic so don't judge me and also: tell me if you think something is very ooc for you. It helps me evolve my abilities.   
> Have a great day ;)


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